


I Will Find You

by BattyPastel



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander is a hoe, Anal Sex, Artistic Liberties, Ass-Kicking, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Daddy Issues, Demon & Human Interactions, Demon/Human Relationships, Gay Sex, George Washington is a Dad, George Washington is a bad man, George Washington is literally Satan, Hell, James is a good boy, Love, M/M, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Romance, Seven Deadly Sins, Talks of peace, Thomas is a Good Guy, Trigger Warning: Death, You Have Been Warned, in which George Washington is James Madison's dad, kicking names and taking ass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BattyPastel/pseuds/BattyPastel
Summary: In spite of his banishment, the former prince of Hell finds love.His spiteful father rips his human mate away from him.James will battle through Hell to get Thomas back.He will find his mate.





	1. .Banishment.

**Author's Note:**

> // In which George Washington is Satan and the biological father of James Madison.  
> I worked really hard on this and I hope you like it!!  
> ヽ(‘ ∇‘ )ノ
> 
> Shout out to my beta reader Blargnaught!  
> Thank for putting up with my garbage writing.

George Washington was the king of Hell and he had been now for hundreds of years.

He was a powerfully built dark skinned man with long, upward curving, black horns that spanned a foot long from base to pointed tip. He was a tall devil that stood a mighty 6’3 and often wore a nice, clean black suit- it was sleek and held to his muscular figure well, all while providing free movement so that he could do as he pleased. Not that the king of Hell needed to do a lot of physical activity or torture any souls, but he had the freedom to do so should he want to. 

George, like many powerful demons chose to maintain a mostly human shaped figure. He had the long horns, slender tail, red eyes, and slightly long, pointed canines- though that was the extent of his outwardly demonic features.

His presence was an intimidating one.   
He typically wore a stern expression and many feared him for it. However, those close to him knew that his stern face was not the one to fear. There was nothing scarier than when the reigning Satan was smiling. George had two different smiles- a soft one reserved for his mate or when his son did something pleasing. The smile of a family man.   
The other smile, though…  
What was typically considered a soft gesture became twisted and sharp. George retained many of his human features, but not when this smile pulled at his lips. It was a wide one that nearly reached to his ears and revealed all of his teeth- and those teeth would get longer. Sharper.  
Those that had seen that expression didn’t live to tell what sort of exchange had been had.

He had one son, though… James Washington.  
In looks there were similarities between the two: Like his father, he had upward curving horns, though he prefered to keep them around two-three inches long by means of filing.   
James hadn’t the towering presence of his father. He could be considered short by many standards at a measly 5’6. His skin was darker though and his red eyes a hue lighter. He too, like his father wore suits, though he tended to lean towards beige over blacks and reds.

And George had spent the last 500 years trying to mold James into the perfect heir. 

Though he seemed outwardly cold, James was a truly caring sort of man: He cared deeply for the state of demon kind, and found it imperative that they start talks of piece with the King of Heaven. Too long had his father and the king of Heaven feuded and used Earth as a spiritual battleground. 

James hadn’t lived near as long as his father, but he’d seen enough to know that this hatred was superficial. There was no real reason for it to go on. The first Satan may have started it, but James would be the sixth- he had no ties to what the first Satan had done nor his father’s actions.   
He felt he could end it... and he’d seen what his father has done to misbehaving demons. Should their stationing on Earth earn them a mortal lover, George would swoop in to kill the human’s body and claim the human’s soul.  
If he were feeling particularly cruel, he’d force the demon to consume their dead lover’s soul.

James merely wanted it to be possible for demonkind to roam the human realm safely. 

He’d held a successful meeting with the king of Heaven, then went back home.

...

James, battered and bruised, was hoisted to his feet. Two guards held fast, one to each arm. His father backed away, sneering down at him. The king of Hell was rubbing his knuckles,soothing them from hitting his son in the mouth- a hit hard enough to knock his offspring to the floor and possibly bruise his own knuckles. George hissed “What did you think would happen!?” 

James spat out a little blood and choked, “Peace, father…” Though his language was polite, his gaze was sharp.

“Its what you should want and strive for as Satan-”

“Do you hear yourself?!” George snarled, his tail whipping like that of an angry cat's. “As Satan, I should strive for peace!? I am the Lord of darkness! Like my father before me! Like you should be! Peace is not strived for by our kind!”

James kept his eyes locked with George's, and he spoke with venom in his tone: “Things are changing, father. I won't let my people be killed for little to no reason--”

George’s nose scrunched. The old devil growled and paced away from him for a moment, before lashing out again. He took a heavy step forward and threw a particularly rough punch using all of the force he could muster- in his previously beloved son in the face, yielding a strangled, pained noise from James. 

“You will not speak to me in such a way!” He hissed. James coughed, a bit of blood dripping from his nose. 

“They aren't your people anymore!” George half roared before whipping around to speak to his scribe, “Take this down!” The underling demon gave a frightened squeak and pressed its pen to a scroll. George glared down at his bruised and battered son.   
“From this day forward, my son, James Washington… Is hereby banished from Hell. For treasonous actions.”   
“You don't know what you're talking about, old man!” James hissed.   
“This Armageddon that you’re pushing to bring will yield no victors!” 

“Silence, you! I also decree that my son loses his place as heir to the throne.” he looked at him pointedly as he spoke again, “He must walk the Earth unhappily amongst the humans until Armageddon, when he will surely die…”  
James was glaring daggers at his father. There was nothing more he could say. At this point, it would be nothing but wasted breath. 

George sneered down at him.   
“Throw him to the mortal realm. Take him away from me.” Instantly, the two demons holding him up dragged the battered demon away. He locked eyes with George, choosing to speak as the portal to the Earthly realm was opened.

“I’ll abide by your ruling. But do not cross me. Should I truly be banished, I don't want you or any of your pets coming for me to cause any grief.” George quirked a brow. 

“James… I'm Satan.” A smug grin crept its way upon his lips. “I do as I please.” 

And with that, James was tossed through the portal... and fell face first into the grass. 

Shaking, he stood and observed his surroundings. With every exhale, he could see his breath. 

He recalled this place, he'd seen it from its birth as the land of opportunity. “New York…” He spat lowly, following the words with a short cough.

It wasn't the ‘land of opportunity’ anymore; Instead, it was a concrete playground that only served it's opportunity to the already privileged: the children of models and performers thrived, while the working class typically slaved between metropolitan careers and dangerous neighborhoods. 

But, it would do.

He was a devil. A cunning beast above the knowledge of the mortals that lived here. He had until Armageddon to find his place in the mortal realm, and it wouldn't take him long at all to raise himself to a comfortable place. 

He decided that he wouldn't just live in this mortal realm, he would thrive in it.  
Even if only to make George angry. 

He felt over his head, short horns shrinking back into his skull. All of his demonic features seemed to go away, and all that was left was a bruised and bloodied young man near the edge of Central Park. 

He took his first step on the expanse of concrete before him. He decided there that -- for his own gratification -- he'd choose a new last name: He'd keep the first because he rather liked it, but the last one had to go. From that point on, he decided, he would be James Oak Madison. 

He coughed and felt something hot in his mouth and on his hand. Pulling back, he examined the bit of blood that had painted his palm red.   
George had done quite a number on him… 

For a moment, he scowled -- not because he was angry that it hurt, but because his father had done it to him.   
Scoffing some, he started down the street. 

Few people acknowledged him, which was both nice and sad, in a way. It reminded him too much of what the cities of Hell were like for the lower demons, and truly for anyone who wasn't a sin.   
He had never cared for behavior like this, but it was a familiarity. 

His body was aching, his vision a little weak. He knew he needed a break, but he had nowhere to rest. At a crossing sat a lovely pink bakery. The bricks were pink, the awning was pink. And yet, James only vaguely took notice until he paused at the crosswalk to seek a bench or table to sit at.   
Then, he heard a distinctly Southern voice ring out: “You okay, stranger?”

James turned to seek out the source of the voice and his eyes landed upon a tall human. A handsome black man who wore his hair naturally. His facial hair was well kept: the sides reached his hairline, but he’d trimmed it before it grew to his neck. His eyebrows had even been plucked to perfection. He was wearing a short sleeved, white button up shirt and a pair of khakis. Over both of these he had a pink apron that matched the bakery. 

James had never seen such an attractive mortal. This was no celebrity, either, just a man with natural beauty.   
“Get mugged?” 

James managed to break his infatuated gaze on him and nodded, “You could… Say that…” The stranger squinted, “There's blood in your mouth.” His light brown eyes moved from James' lips to his face. “Could say?” He repeated “What, did they not take anything?”

“It was my father…” James coughed again. 

“Oh hell no-”  
James blinked at the stranger, “Pardon…??”

“Your father did this? Is it because you’re gay??”  
The demon was absolutely baffled.   
What had made him guess such a thing? James briefly considered himself- quietly questioning if he radiated a homosexual vibe.

He opened his mouth, but had no time to answer before the man grabbed his hand “Come inside.”

The only thing he’d managed to get out was a soft: “Won't the owner be upset if you bring in someone who's not a paying customer?” Just before entering the cute bakery.  
The question pulled a smug, crooked grin from the taller man.

“Darlin', I am the owner.”

James smiled some. If he was to spend eternity on the mortal plane, he thought maybe he could enjoy it. 

“Now, let's get you inside.”

Once inside, the owner escorted him to the employee bathroom and began helping him clean up. He ran water over a cloth and began to wipe and clean away the remnants of blood from his mouth. Then pressed a cool cloth to his face where bruises were clearly forming. 

“That's all I can do…” he said once he was finished. “Your parent really…” He bit his tongue. 

James simply let him talk, content to listen to this young soul speak until he brought up mentionings of his father. “...I never caught your name?”

“Thomas Jefferson. I bake-” he chuckled, gesturing around the bathroom, though James assumed that he intended to gesture to the establishment, itself. 

James chuckled, “James Madison.”  
“Pleasure to meet you, Jemmy. Can I call you that? Well, it's just a delight to meet you.” Thomas talked a lot. James didn't mind one bit. 

“You hungry?”  
“... Hungry-” James's stomach growled a little.   
“I suppose that answers my first question. Come on Jemmyjames.”

Tom dragged him to a bar seat and moved behind the counter. 

James finally got a chance to examine the cute little bakery. 

The floor was checkered lavender and white. The wallpaper was a faint powder pink, with darker pink running in stripes from top to bottom. There were a few white tables with that same light shade of pink, each with a set of comfortable looking chairs scooted up to them. The tables were scattered here and there, with wide spaces between to give the patrons plenty of room to move about. 

There were two bar areas -- both a nice shade of white; One was next to a large window so that patrons could watch onto the street, and the other, the smaller of the two, was the one that James was settled at. There was a large display case next to him, the inside of which was decorated with various sweets that one could buy. On the other side of that was the register. It was very nice…   
And very pink. 

Thomas spoke suddenly, breaking his thoughts, “You got any allergies, Jemmy?”  
“Oh?? No, sorry.”  
Thomas laughed, “Are you apologizing for not having allergies?”  
James only answered with a small, smug grin. 

“Pecan pie okay??”  
James paused, “I'm sorry, I've never had it-”

“Never had pecan pie?” Thomas gasped, clutching his chest. “Look, James…” he began, voice flat, “I can only handle one shock a day-”

The demon-in-disguise snorted good naturedly in response. 

“-I'm about to spoil you, then. My baking is the best. You'll turn away anyone else's pecan pie!”

James watched him cut a slice for him, plate it, then drizzle it in caramel sauce.   
The truth was, he'd never had human food of any type, though he had heard tell from demons who had spent time in the mortal realm, that human food had no ill effects for their kind.

Thomas sat in front of him with a fork with a flourish.   
“Bon appétit.”   
“Thank you.”  
James took a cautious bite and… He'd never tasted something so sweet and decadent. 

“This… Is the best thing I've ever eaten…”  
Thomas puffed his chest, “Yer' damn right it is, darlin’~”

After a moment of watching him, Thomas spoke again. There was something about James that really softened his aching mortal soul. 

“Do you have anywhere to stay?”

James' mouth was too full to speak, but he looked up at Thomas and shook his head no. 

“You do, now.”


	2. .Assimilation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James takes his first steps into assimilating into human culture.

Upon closing, Thomas escorted James to his apartment a couple of blocks away. 

He lived in a highrise that was entirely inhabited by the upper class, but of course it would be: This appeared to be the nicer part of the city. 

As the taller man walked James into the lobby and to the gold-doored elevator, James found himself looking around at the decor of the complex. He took in everything at once, and yet nothing at all.

The style seemed to be an integration of both art deco and modern. Glorious gilded patterns littered soft yellow walls and furniture was blocky, and yet plush. The chairs were a lovely white, while the wooden pieces were a rich mahogany. The desk was a dark color- mahogany brown and topped with obsidian. The wooden base was decorated with the same gilded patterns.

It was all too much for the tired demon.  
“It ain’t much. I’ve lived here for about a year now. Didn’t start out here though-”  
“Saved up?” James glanced his way.   
“Yer’ damn right I did!” Thomas punched his shoulder lightly and leaned back. It seemed that he was tired out, too. “I came from a rich family. My dad? Big businessman. He taught me everything he knows about gettin’ loans and runnin’ businesses… But...” 

He sighed through his nose and James noted an obvious frown.

The smaller man gazed up at him, “Let me guess. He found out you were gay and didn’t approve…” It would make sense after all, with the way the tall man assumed the same had happened to him and become overly passionate about helping him on his feet.

“How did you know?” Tom blinked down at him.

James smirked a little, “Lucky guess… Either way. You really made it for yourself, didn’t you?”

Thomas smiled some, “Left Virginia for here with nothing but the clothes on my own back. Yeah, I made it. And I’d love to see his face if he saw that I made it.”

Thomas’ story gave James a glimmer of hope, in a way.

Thomas spoke again, “Jemmy, ain’t nothin’ more satisfying than getting up on your own two feet and showin’ everyone that they were wrong, you hear me?”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened now that they’d made it to Thomas’ floor.

“That’s why I wanna help you get on your feet. I started from nothin’ and nobody ever gave me nothin’, you know?” He started guiding him along again, “I want you to show whoever hurt you that you’re better than them.”

James chuckled, “Sounds like spite pushes you a bit…” he mused.

“Spite used to be my driving force,” he responded playfully.

“Spite is good for that.”

Thomas slid an arm around him as they made their way down the hall, “I like you James. You tell it how it is. Real perceptive and blunt.” James blinked up at him. “And you don’t make me feel bad about bein’ spiteful,” he teased. 

It pulled a soft laugh from James.

Thomas stopped them at his door and took out his key, unlocked the door and allowed him into his apartment. 

James did not expect an apartment to be so…. Big.

Thomas had a luxury apartment.

Like the lobby, his apartment shared that sames soft shade of yellow. Much of the apartment had a view, as the outer walls were nothing but windows- there was a nice mahogany dining table, a kitchen with a bar, a maroon rug expanse in the living room where a mahogany coffee table sat in front of a white couch. There was a large tv on the wall and an unused glass fireplace.

James was in awe. This looked more like a den belonging to a sin than a human dwelling.

“Thomas… How did you manage to afford this place-” James asked, voice coming out in a breath.

“Owning a successful business and making smart investments with a portion of my savings. Helps that I come from money, too. I know how to make it.” He lead James to a spare bedroom with a full sized bed. “You can crash here. Sound good?”

“Sounds good. Looks even better.”

James kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed.

“Feels even better than it looks. Goodnight Thomas…”

Thomas was satisfied with James’ behavior and started to retreat, “Night, Jemmy.”

“Hey Thomas?”  
The tall man paused, “Yeah?”  
“Thank you.”

A smile pulled at his lips, “No problem. Get some rest, James.”

He pulled the door closed and James’ heavy eyelids shut for the night.

And he had an incredibly restful sleep. 

The next morning, James woke to the scent of what the demon assumed was a human breakfast in the air. James’ eyes opened. Slowly, he pressed himself off of the expensive mattress and moved out of the room, urged along by the scent of food and the promise of a meal.

There was noise coming from the TV, where the groggy human was watching the news. James couldn't help but be amused by the other's appearance post sleep. The normally overly groomed man was simply precious to the demon: his hair was bound back in a ponytail, eyelids fighting to stay open, and his facial hair had not yet been combed into place. Not to mention not a single article of his clothes matched... He was donning some white graphic cotton tee shirt, purple silk pajama pants, and moccasin house shoes. 

“Quit starin', James.” Thomas suddenly chimed in, his voice groggy with sleep. He was grinning though. He clearly liked the attention. James smirked a little, “Sorry. Didn't expect you to look so…”

“Sexy?”  
“Messy.”

The Southerner laughed, “Hush. I always look good.” He turned for a moment and poured himself and James both a cup of dark liquid. “You take sugar? Cream? Milk?”

James didn't know what those things were. For now, he'd play it safe. “No thank you.”  
“Like you coffee black, huh? Me too. When I wake up, anyway.”

He passed James the cup and began nursing his own. James took a curious sip- oh boy, that was stout. Bitter. But… Good. The demon liked coffee. He also couldn't help but notice that Tom seemed instantly more alive as he consumed the beverage. Eyes wide open. 

“This coffee is good.” James complimented.

“Ain't it though? It's dark roast. Wakes you right up, don't it? You want a bagel, Jemmy?”

“... Yes.”  
He didn't know what a bagel was either. 

An hour later, James was walking with the human -- now fully groomed and dressed -- to his work. 

“Okay, James, here's the deal. I'm only letting you crash with me until you get on your feet. You got a week to find something.”

“Don't worry. I’m quite good at getting what I want.”

“Really? Well good luck. Remember, Jemmyjames. The big deals are made over lunches and on the golf course. You can get almost any opportunity if you butter the big boss up with either a meal or a game.”

James blinked up at the man he was so fond of, “Really?” 

“Mmhmm. It's just how things go. You gotta know how to work the system if you wanna live comfortably. Or luxuriously. Depends on the job you manage to land.”

Those were human tactics. 

While James appreciated the advice he didn't need such things when he could easily hypnotize any human into subservience or manipulate a ‘yes' out of an ‘employer’.

They were soon at the doors of the little bakery. Tom pulled out his keys. 

“Come back for lunch. Unless you manage to score a lunch with an employer. Either way, I'm takin' my lunch at 12:30.”

And then Tom slipped inside. 

James found himself at a building called a library. It was nice. Quiet. He settled at a computer- this was a human thing he recognized. Then, he began doing research on careers. 

It took two hours for him to settle on lawyer. All he needed was an apprenticeship for New York. And as for supporting himself, he decided that he would work in this… Library. 

He sought out the manager, and found him shortly- a slim, older man a bit on the short side. He had a dark tan and a pompadour, which made him look out of place and time, or perhaps like a fan of programming from the 1950’s. 

Then again, maybe he was just an old hipster. 

James approached, making himself seem eager but not meek.

“Excuse me. Are you hiring right now?”

The manager turned to him, looking him over with disapproval. 

“Do you have a resume?”

“No-”

“Then no. Get out.”

The manager turned back to his work. 

How rude. 

James made eye contact with the manager and his eyes flashed an alluring shade of red. The manager froze, unblinking, gazing into James' eyes- instantly captivated. 

“I think you are hiring.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You're going to give me the night shift.”

“Yes, sir.”

“With a month's advancement of pay.”

“Of course.”

“Good.”

He snapped his fingers and the human snapped out of the daze he'd been put in, remembering and approving of the deal he'd been forced into. 

“When can you start?”

James offered a small smile, “Tonight.”

He sought out the best lawyer in the city and achieved his apprenticeship in the same way. During the day, he'd learn the human ways of law and by night, he'd study at work.

He'd be a lawyer in a little less than a year. 

And at lunch, he went to tell Tom the good news. He got there just as Tom was stepping out. 

“Thomas!” he called out, jogging across the street. Tom turned, watching him jog over, 

“You look happy,” the tall man muse.

“I am indeed,” James was breathing hard. He took a moment to catch his breath in front of him.   
“I got a job and a law apprenticeship.”

Tom beamed, “Damn! You work quick don't you?”

“May I still stay for a short bit while I save for my own place? I'll help out financially--”

“Was that ever a question that needed to be asked? Yeah, you can stay. I ain't gonna kick you out because you landed a job, James,” he responded with an unapologetically loud laugh. 

Then Tom treated him to lunch. 

\---

Two weeks later, James had learned enough human culture to get him by with living with Thomas, though he'd still found himself questioning what certain foods and references were. And that's how he got...here. 

Thomas had made a joke. The inflection of his words had indicated so and the way he'd gazed at James for a reaction made James want to give the tall man what he wanted, but all he could manage was an uncomfortable smile and a short, forced laugh. 

Tom's face dropped some. 

“... You're acting like you have no idea what's goin' on.”

“... I'm sorry. That's… Because I don't.”

Thomas' jaw dropped. “Holy shit… You've never seen Iron Man?”

“What’s…” James' eyes squinted. Voice lowered despite the two being alone in their shared dwelling, “What’s an Iron Man…?”

Thomas pointed, “Couch. Now.”

James shuffled to the couch and watched Thomas expectantly. He knew that the way that Thomas spoke about this “man of iron” indicated that he was talking about a film… However, part of him wanted Thomas to produce a human made of pure iron.

Instead, Tom moved to a media cabinet a few feet away from the fireplace, opened the door and produced what James understood to be a ‘DVD'. He took the disc out and placed it in a box with an opening port that connected to the TV. 

Turning on his heel, Thomas moved to settle on the couch next to James. The demon watched him grab the remote and turn on the movie, but he was more focused on their proximity rather than the human technology. 

James briefly wondered how to go about this. He wanted badly to court Thomas. His biology was imprinting on the human, and he could smell Thomas' interest in him. Though he didn't need to only smell the interest. It was obvious. The way Tom would look at him with such a soft gaze; How he wanted to celebrate every small victory with him, almost always paying for meals or cooking for him; And how he always wanted the slightest of skin contact. He wanted to be so bold. 

James' dark eyes fell to Tom’s hand. He gulped a little. Thomas noticed the tension and moved his hand, instead, resting his arm over James' shoulder, fighting that crooked smirk. “Better, Jemmy?” he asked teasingly.

“Yes,” his voice cracked some. 

James had to admit, he found how Tony spent the beginning of the movie injured, but then made himself into a powerful hero, rather empowering.. 

He smiled to himself. 

If only Tony were a powerful demon like himself, he thought, he wouldn't need to make such a suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shout out to blarghnaut! Because of your beta-ing and advice, I'm becoming a stronger writer. ♡  
> Anyway! To my dear readers:  
> Things are about to pick up like whoa! 
> 
> Also, the next chapter has smut.   
> So don't be surprised ovo;;

**Author's Note:**

> // November really kicked my ass.  
> I didn't write as much as I wanted, but still! As promised, here it is~  
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it!  
> It really makes my day and makes all of this really worth it. ♡♡♡


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